


All of You

by athena_crikey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Confessions, M/M, Romance, School Trip, Tsuki/yams is peripheral, Tsukishima the relunctant wingman, UST, moping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena_crikey/pseuds/athena_crikey
Summary: Kageyama’s known that it’s Hinata or no one since the end of summer break. If he has to keep this a secret any longer it’s going to crush him. But he wants Hinata to understand how important he is to him, wants him to know that this isserious. He can’t just pull him behind the school building like any lame student confessing a crush.Or: Kageyama and Hinata travel to Kyoto for their school trip. All Kageyama wants is somewhere romantic to confess, but Hinata is bored by the ancient city.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 130





	All of You

**Author's Note:**

> Third-year fic; Kageyama is team captain and Hinata is libero.

Kageyama’s not romantic. He knows this because Suga-san once told him he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. That had been after a late-night club room party during which he had opined that the best first date was watching old pre-qualifier videos looking for unappreciated talent on the bench. 

Kageyama also can’t stand failure. Oh, not at everyday meaningless things like Modern Japanese tests and earning his allowance by washing the car; that kind of shit’s not important. But when it counts, the need to win burns unquenchable as a forest fire. 

These two details are the reason he’s currently sitting bent over his cramping stomach on the bus, not so much nervous as miserable, while next to him Hinata sleeps with his mouth open.

Hinata, who he has the world’s biggest crush on. Hinata, who he’s starting to think that just maybe he can’t live without.

Hinata, who he _hasn’t told yet._

He’s been agonizing about it for more than a month. Their relationship has grown steadily over the past three years, from intense personality clashes to an extreme rivalry to a surprisingly close friendship. Now, in their final year of high school, they’re inseparable, know each other well enough to often read each other’s thoughts on the court, and sometimes off it. 

But Hinata’s always been naïve, especially when it comes to love, has never noticed the girls watching him – or some of the boys. He sees nothing wrong with leaping on Kageyama and climbing him like a monkey in a tree, his body firm and hot and _so close_. Sees nothing wrong with goading Kageyama into wrestling matches which inevitably end up with the taller boy pinning him to the floor, hips to hips, _squirming_ , until Kageyama yells at him and kicks him away and then goes to hide somewhere cold and alone until his embarrassing body calms down.

It would be easier, obviously, if Hinata were a girl. So much easier – they wouldn’t need to worry about society’s expectations or malicious gossip or the fact that Hinata probably doesn’t even know that two guys can do it. But if Hinata were a girl he wouldn’t be Hinata, wouldn’t be all planes and angles and narrow hips with a full ass, wouldn’t be on the volleyball team, wouldn’t understand Kageyama the way he does. 

It’s November now, the fall leaves thick and red, snow already falling occasionally in Miyagi. Kageyama’s known that it’s Hinata or no one since the end of summer break. If he has to keep this a secret any longer it’s going to crush him. But he wants Hinata to understand how important he is to him, wants him to know that this is _serious_. He can’t just pull him behind the school building like any lame student confessing a crush. 

Thus, his stomach cramps on the bus while Hinata snores unawares beside him. They’re going to Kyoto. Third year school trip. The one most kids have been looking forward to for all of high school. For Kageyama, it means four days without volleyball, which is a hardship not a reward. But it also means opportunities to talk to Hinata somewhere amazing in one of the most beautiful places in Japan. Somewhere Hinata has never been and will never forget. Something they can share.

If he can manage it.

  
***

It’s a four-day trip, two days for the bus ride there and back and two full days in the ancient city. As they travel south through Japan the snows melt away, the hills green and brown and in places bright red and orange. They eat lunch on the bus to save time, stopping only briefly every couple of hours for restroom breaks.

They arrive in Kyoto a little past six, by which time it’s already dark. The buses pull up to their hotel and they all flood off, a sea of students from the north. It’s chilly here but not cold enough to snow, their breath just barely fogging in the air. 

Hinata looks around bright-eyed. “I’ve never been this far south before,” he says. “I thought maybe there’d be all palm trees and stuff.”

“It’s Kyoto, not Okinawa, dumbass,” retorts Kageyama, stretching his sides from the long bus ride. 

“There’re palm trees in Kyushu! I’ve seen pictures.”

“Alert the media,” drawls Kageyama. 

There’s not time for more bickering because the head teacher is shouting to get everyone’s attention. They quiet down and listen. “Form your groups of four. You will be sharing a room and will stay together throughout the trip. Tonight is dinner at the hotel and then free time. Tomorrow morning is free time for you to work on your assignments, then meet at noon for lunch and afternoon lectures. You should all have a map and your itinerary. Yes?”

“Yes,” drone the students.

“Good. Get into your groups and the room keys will be distributed shortly.”

“Great,” mutters Kageyama dismally. Because their roommates and group members for this trip are Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, aka Co-Champions of the Worst Personality Award (three years running). 

The two middle blockers appear out of the crowd of students, both taller than almost everyone around them. Kageyama looks at them unhappily; they might as well have Third Wheel printed on their foreheads. The four of them have to stay together in their free time as they explore the city’s landmarks. Which means arranging alone time with Hinata will be a serious challenge.

Tsukishima, as always, has a long face as he strides up to them. “You had both better be planning to contribute equally to the assignment,” he says.

Kageyama bristles. “Are you calling us lazy?”

“No. Idiotic. And I don’t want your stupidity getting all over my report.” 

Yamaguchi sniggers. 

“I’m taking the pictures,” Hinata declares. “My mother leant me her iPhone.”

“Well, that saves us from basic spelling errors,” says Tsukishima. Before he can turn on Kageyama their group is called and they hoist up their bags, trotting to the front to receive their room keys. They’re given instructions to the elevator and a list of rules about the hotel which to Kageyama seem self-evident but also which he is sure will be broken over the next three nights. 

The room is western-style with two double beds and a TV on a low chest of drawers. Hinata barges in first, leaping across the room and tossing himself and his bags down on the bed closest to the window. “This one’s mine!” he says, rolling around on the cover like a dog in mud. 

Kageyama stares at the two beds. He had been expecting a Japanese-style room. Had been expecting separate futons. No one had said anything about sharing beds.

“Move it, Captain,” prompts Tsukishima from behind him, and Kageyama stumbles forward into the room, tripping over his own feet. The coverlet is polyester and has charged Hinata’s hair which is now standing up with static electricity like a dandelion flower gone to seed. 

Kageyama looks at the other bed. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are already putting their bags down on it, apparently unfussed by having to share. Tsukishima catches him looking and stares back flatly; then his eyes slide to Hinata and a sly smile curls on his lips. 

“Problem?” he purrs. Kageyama has the sudden urge to spike a ball into his smug face. 

“No,” he says, and dumps his bag on the bed beside Hinata, who looks up at him in puzzlement. “Quit fooling around,” he says, trying to ignore the fact that his skin feels suddenly far too hot. “We’ve got to go down for dinner.”

Hinata looks slowly at his bag, then over at the other bed. Tsukishima is pulling some lens cleaner out of his bag; Yamaguchi’s checking his phone. “Oh. Right. Yeah.” He rolls off the bed and scrambles to his feet. His shirt momentarily sticks to itself with the static, revealing the toned plane of his stomach and the rise of his hipbones disappearing under his low-slung pants. 

Kageyama swallows and looks away.

  
***

After dinner they go out into the evening. The brochures they’ve been given say there are night illuminations of the fall leaves at a number of scenic spots in the city, and Hinata wants to take pictures of them for his sister. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi tag along to see if they can get started on their assignment – a broad summary of Kyoto’s most historic locations.

Kageyama just wants to have some alone time with his crush. While Hinata runs to get to the subway and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi tail him with their hands in their pockets, Kageyama kicks along at the rear, anxious and depressed. 

What on earth is he supposed to say to his idiot crush? Even if he gets him alone, even if he can catch Hinata’s attention – never guaranteed – then what? When he tries to imagine what to say, his mind just goes a horrible, sucking blank. It’s worse than public speaking, worse than making speeches as the team captain. 

“Oo, Kageyama, look – Kyoto tower!”

The small white tower is lit up in bright LEDs at the top that swirl through a rainbow of colours. 

“I really wanted to go to Tokyo and see the Sky Tree, and the Tokyo Dome, and that building with the golden slug on it,” he says, walking backwards with his hands behind his head.

“The Asahi Group building?” says Tsukishima, sounding bored. 

“Look where you’re going, moron,” adds Kageyama. Hinata ignores him.

“Yeah! And we could go up to the top of the Sky Tree and see _everything_. Kyoto’s just old temples and stuff. Boring.”

Kageyama swallows. “You think so?”

Hinata looks at him, amber eyes wide. “Don’t you? I mean, it’s nice being out of school, but we could be practicing right now! Instead we’re going to see old statues of Buddha and hear about what Emperor built what when.”

“Maybe there are some good parts,” suggests Kageyama, weakly. 

“I bet the guys want to buy charms from Fushimi Inari Taisha so they’ll earn tones of money, and the girls want to go and get confessed to on the top of Kiyomizu-dera.”

Kageyama’s stomach knots. 

“It’s certainly unimaginative,” says Tsukishima. “Some people like that.”

“Hinata, the subway,” prompts Yamaguchi, as they near the entrance. Hinata turns around and hops down the steps, arms outstretched as he runs down like a little kid. Kageyama, feeling wretched, follows more slowly.

  
***

They take the subway to Shijou, the main upscale shopping street in Kyoto, and walk along towards the river and Gion, one of the few remaining traditional parts of town. The sidewalks are crowded with people and the streets with cars, the shops still open despite the fact that it’s past seven.

The buildings on either side are several storeys tall, many of them occupied by department stores. The press of people and consumerism feels more acute than it is even in Sendai, something closer to Tokyo. This isn’t what Kageyama imagined Kyoto would be like. They reach the river and cross over into the old part of town, the buildings here wood instead of concrete and short, just one or two storeys. They wind through the old cobbled streets, izakayas and restaurants lit up from the inside and letting out brief bursts of sound when the doors open. 

They come to a temple at the top of the street, up a set of stairs. Here there are momiji in abundance lit from below so that they glow a bright fiery red. There are quite a few people gathered around taking pictures of them. Hinata pushes forward to join them. 

The leaves are beautiful but the venue feels staged, fake. Full of people here just to take pictures rather than enjoy the loveliness of nature. There’s no privacy either, no quiet corners for important conversations. There are couples everywhere, holding hands, pressed together closely, taking selfies in the low light. But Kageyama sees no opportunity for joining their ranks. 

Hinata returns, cheeks bright in the cold night air, eyes shining. He looks every bit as beautiful as the momiji, and utterly unaware of it. “Got the pics!” he exclaims, smiling and holding up his phone. 

“There’s some shopping arcades open back down Shijou,” says Yamaguchi, who has his phone out. “Let’s go look at the sports stores.”

  
***

They stay out until nine, which is when the shops close. Tsukishima, who has no sense of fun, wants to go back and go to bed early and Yamaguchi backs him up. Hinata wants to stay out and have fun, but Kageyama doesn’t see a lot of opportunity for that and besides is feeling morose.

They go back. 

In the hotel room Tsukishima and Yamaguchi change and crawl into bed like an old married couple, Tsukishima lying on the side beside the wall with his light out. Yamaguchi sits next to him reading on his phone. 

Hinata looks up at him. “Wanna watch some videos?”

There’s nothing else to do. Kageyama nods.

“Use the headphones,” commands Tsukishima without turning over, words slightly slurred.

There’s nowhere to sit but in bed, so they clamber up onto the mattress and sit against the headboard side-by-side. Hinata digs out his earphones and gives Kageyama one, then pulls up youtube and starts searching for recent volleyball uploads. 

Slowly, as the videos play, Hinata leans closer. Kageyama can tell it’s entirely unconscious, his shoulder sliding across the wood headboard, his head ducking in. Kageyama reciprocates – entirely consciously – by pressing his shoulder against Hinata’s, resting his elbow against the red-head’s. Each touch, each new level of closeness sends a spike of adrenaline through him, his heart tender. He can hardly focus on the videos; all his attention is on Hinata’s warmth, the firmness of his weight and the soft smell of him. 

Hinata lays his head on Kageyama’s shoulder, resting his weight there, and Kageyama stiffens like a board. He looks down to see that Hinata’s eyes are heavy, his breathing slow and even. 

Kageyama wishes they were alone. Wishes they were going out. Wishes he could bend down and kiss Hinata right here, right now.

He wishes a lot of things, but right now none of them are coming true. So he sits up and turns off the video. “Go get changed for bed before you fall asleep,” he says; Hinata blinks up at him, but after a minute sighs and pulls himself up. 

They get ready for bed. Yamaguchi finishes whatever he’s reading and puts his phone down on the bedside table and turns out his light. 

Kageyama closes the curtains and the room is cast into darkness. He finds his way back to the bed and crawls in, supremely conscious of Hinata doing the same on the other side. There’s plenty of room in the bed for both of them without contact, but all the same his hand brushes Hinata’s and he flushes hot. “Sorry,” he mutters. 

Hinata just snuggles down silently, back to Kageyama. After a moment the setter does the same, his heart pounding in his ears. 

Sleep is a long time coming.

  
***

He’s woken next morning by someone shoving the curtains open. Kageyama curls inwards and groans, then blinks up.

Tsukishima is standing beside the window looking down at him with a casual smile. “Good morning, Captain,” he says. 

“Ngh,” replies Kageyama. Beside him Hinata rolls over and buries his face in the pillow. 

Yamaguchi’s up too and in the shower, Kageyama realises as he slowly sits up and runs a hand through his hair. Tsukishima’s already dressed and looking irritatingly awake. 

“Did you two sleep well?” asks Tsukishima, still smiling – but now more sharply, eyes sly. Kageyama stares back, forcing himself not to react.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Good. Breakfast’s in ten minutes. Don’t be late – we have a lot to do this morning.” He walks away. 

Kageyama rises and gets dressed, then grabs his pillow and smacks Hinata in the back with it. “Get up already, dumbass.” 

Hinata moans but rolls over onto his back, spread-eagling in the centre of the bed and staring up at the ceiling. His hair is mussed and his face is flushed from sleep; lying there stretched out in the bed – in _Kageyama’s bed_ – he looks somehow debauched, like sleeping is the last thing he’s been doing. 

A strong pulse of want throbs in Kageyama’s gut; he grits his teeth and digs through his pack for his clothes.

  
***

After breakfast they decide to see the east half of the city this morning. They start in the south, at Fushimi Inari Taisha with its hundreds of orange torii gates dedicated to the god of business. There are statues of the god’s fox servants all over and in all different sizes; from the shrine office near the station charms and small torii gates can be bought to make offerings.

There’s a whole mountain trail of torii gates but they don’t have the time to climb it all. Here the orange gates are even more colourful than the fall leaves, the bright paint shining in the morning sun. Hinata takes pictures of them exploring the paths and the tiers of small private shrines. 

It's impressive – and amazingly consumeristic – but not very romantic. No one comes here to confess, and the hoards of people trying to get pictures of just themselves and the gates make it difficult to focus on tender emotions. Besides which Hinata’s running around like crazy taking pictures of everything – “Look, little fox statues! Over there, a monkey sign! Hey, check out the size of this spider!”

There are a few informational plaques and Tsukishima makes a note of their contents while Yamaguchi reads about the shrine on his phone and Kageyama looks it up in a guidebook his mother gave him. They make some notes while Hinata zooms around, and then it’s back to the train. 

Next is Kiyomizu-dera. They take a bus from Kyoto station and get off at the foot of the long hill leading up to it. 

“This is the ceramics area of town,” says Yamaguchi, reading his phone. Kageyama looks at the shops selling ceramic bowls and sake cups and carafes and nods. As they climb the hill towards the temple the stores become cheaper and more geared towards tourists, selling fans and gawdy yukata and plastic swords. Hinata pokes around at some keychains looking for something for his sister; Kageyama looks for something for his parents and settles on a calendar. 

The temple itself looks almost normal from the front vantage point. It’s only from the sides that it’s clear it’s been built on wooden scaffolding over 13 meters tall. It’s surrounded by momiji, the vistas fiery red and fabulous. 

Looking back over Kyoto they can see the whole city below, fading back into the reddish-brown hills. 

“I guess it’s impressive,” admits Hinata as he takes a picture of Kageyama on the edge of the platform. Many of the other visitors are students, some even from Karasuno. The platform is packed and so is the walkway below that passes by the clear streams the temple is named for. “But imagine confessing to someone here – how tacky!” and he makes a face at a gaggle of girls passing by. 

Kageyama sighs.

  
***

They stop for a snack on the way down from the temple, taking a new route that leads back towards Shijou where they were the night before. Hinata finds some hair clips for Natsu and buys them, content that his obligation to bring back a souvenir has been met.

Despite the fact that they’ve only been to two destinations, it’s already past ten. They only have time for one more this morning before heading back to the hotel for lunch and afternoon lectures. Tsukishima decides on Heian-jingu, a reproduction of a Heian-era palace later turned into a shrine. It’s a very sparse building in bright orange and green that dominates the landscape, accessed beneath an enormous torii gate. 

Kageyama reads out the summary of its past – built for an exhibition in the 1800s, later dedicated as a shrine, burnt down in the 1970s and re-built – while Tsukishima takes notes and Yamaguchi does additional searching. Hinata struggles to take pictures of the huge building and huger torii, squatting on the ground and kicking at the gravel as he tries to get everything in frame. 

In his school uniform with his cream-coloured hoodie pulled up over his flaming hair, Hinata looks like he did in first year, looks compact and thin, although somehow never delicate. He’s always had far too much energy to look waifish despite his size and his huge eyes, has always given the impression of being a little larger than life. Kageyama, who had always embraced stillness and solitude, loves his energy. 

“Oi, Kageyama – go stand over by that part in the corner,” orders Hinata, thumbing him to the side. 

“The Souryuurou,” says Kageyama, looking up from his guidebook. 

“Yeah – whatever. You’ll look good in front of it; I need some scale.”

“I’m not a measuring stick,” grouses Kageyama, but he goes anyway. 

“Hinata, you should go too,” says Yamaguchi, tucking away his phone. “We need some pictures of you too.”

“’Kay.” Hinata hands over the iPhone and trots over to stand beside Kageyama. He grins widely, his face full of joy. When Kageyama hears the shutter click he realises he was looking at Hinata, not the camera. 

“Thanks!” says Hinata, before Kageyama can insist on another. He notices Tsukishima watching him; the middle blocker smirks, then looks back at his notebook. 

Although there are fewer people here Kageyama can’t think of any way to get Hinata alone, and besides, this place is impressive but not really memorable. It’s not beautiful or inspiring or reminiscent in any way of their relationship. 

And besides, he can’t think of a way to give Tsukishima and Yamaguchi the slip.

  
***

They head back to the hotel and have lunch, then an afternoon of historical and cultural lectures. It’s boring as hell and Kageyama almost wishes he were back at school so at least he could put his head down on his desk.

Beside him Hinata’s eyes glaze over after the first few minutes. Neither of them has ever been good at lectures. 

In the evening they’re free to eat where they want; they decide on a burger place in a nearby mall and then spend time looking in the electronics stores (Yamaguchi), the bookstore (Tsukishima), and the sports goods store (all of them). 

Afterwards, Kageyama wants to go for a run. It’s been two full days since he last had any proper exercise, and he can feel himself getting twitchy. Hinata’s fidgeting suggests the same. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel, and then go for a run?” he suggests.

“Here?” asks Hinata.

“Where else?”

“What if we get lost?”

“You get lost at home. I don’t see the difference. Or don’t you want to get some exercise?” 

Hinata nods. “I do!”

“Fine then. Let’s go.”

“As usual, our captain makes up his mind on his own,” says Tsukishima, but quietly.

  
***

They change and then plan out a route using Hinata’s phone. Only Yamaguchi has a data plan on his, so they’re dependent on him for any updates while en route.

The only problem is that Hinata and Kageyama are both considerably faster than the middle blocker, and far too impatient to wait for him.

Consequently half an hour later they two of them are out in the middle of south Kyoto, alone, sweaty, and lost. They stop under a street lamp outside a pair of vending machines, the night cold and dark. 

Hinata looks despondent. “I knew this would happen!”

“Then why didn’t you pay more attention to the map, dumbass?”

“Oh, like you could remember all those twists and turns!” He looks around. “What if we tried retracing our steps?”

“That’s how we ended up here,” points out Kageyama, looking at the run-down shops around them, all of which are closed. “This is not the hotel.” He sighs, breath fogging in the air. Beside him Hinata runs a hand through his hair and then shivers slightly.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s November.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“That’s plain Captain to you,” replies Kageyama. It’s still a source of ire to Hinata that liberos can’t be captain. 

“In your dreams,” replies Hinata absently, watching a car drive by. They start walking at random, on the look-out for a convenience store or any other open shop. 

Kageyama glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “Are you really upset that we came to Kyoto for the school trip?”

“I mean… I guess it’s pretty predictable. I’m not upset. I’d just’ve rather gone somewhere cool and new.”

“You didn’t like any of the places we went today?”

Hinata kicks a rock. “They were okay. The scenery _is_ pretty neat. But I’m not into history. And that’s about all there is around here.”

_Not into history_ , thinks Kageyama. Hinata’s right, all there is in Kyoto is history, the city struggling to preserve the past rather than looking to the future. 

And isn’t that entirely the wrong message to start off a relationship with?

He looks at Hinata, trying to find the words in his mind, trying to make the most of this moment alone. He clears his throat, hands fisting at his side, back painfully straight. 

“Hinata – I – about us,” he begins, desperately pulling words out of the blankness in his mind, and gets no further. Hinata’s not looking at him, he’s staring away down the street.

“Hey, it’s Tsukishima! _Tsukishima! Ooooi!_ ” He waves, jumping up and down. Tsukishima stops and looks their way. A moment later Yamaguchi appears behind him. 

“Phew!” Hinata sighs, then looks over at Kageyama. “C’mon, Bakageyama! Let’s go back.”

“Right,” mutters Kageyama, and jogs after him.

  
***

They take turns showering after they get back, and like before Tsukishima rolls into bed right after. Yamaguchi works on the report, finding some details in some of the tourist information in the hotel room.

Kageyama, still damp from the shower, sits on the top of the coverlet and looks through his own guidebook, considering what to do tomorrow. They’ve still got the big tourist spots on the west side of town to hit, and a two-hour lecture to start the morning off with. 

Hinata comes in with a towel over his shoulders, his hair darker and hanging towards his shoulders. It makes him look older, more mature somehow. But he gives Kageyama his usual goofy grin when he catches the setter watching him; Kageyama looks away, heart fluttering. 

Hinata throws himself onto the bed and squirms up to sit beside him. “Stow that school stuff,” he says. “It’s free time.”

Kageyama puts the guidebook down on the bedside table and Hinata pulls out his phone, handing over an earphone and pulling up youtube.

He smells of lavender and rosemary, the hotel’s shampoo. It’s a clear, clean fragrance, attractive and enticing. It makes Kageyama want to run his hands through Hinata’s hair, want to bury his nose in it. 

Instead he just sits back and watches as the libero pulls up some more vids for them to watch. 

Minutes turn to hours, each video leading into the next one. Hinata slowly slumps down beside him, tonight his shoulder pressing against Kageyama’s, his thigh to Kageyama’s hip. His head nods; it’s propped up against Kageyama’s, the two of them ear to ear. 

This close, Kageyama can feel the warmth of his body, can feel every breath he takes. In a way it’s calming being this close, is comforting. In another, it’s deeply frustrating, his desire for more ruining any enjoyment he would otherwise take. 

Slowly Hinata’s hands drop, the phone slipping out of his fingers. Kageyama picks it up and turns off the stream. Pulls away the earphones gently and puts them on the table, then drags the blankets down. Hinata twitches, mumbling something unintelligible. Kageyama manoeuvers him into bed and pulls the blankets back over him, then gets in himself. 

Everyone else is sleeping, the room silent. Kageyama briefly bends over, touches his forehead to Hinata’s temple, savouring this closeness. 

Then he pulls back and closes his eyes and waits for sleep.

  
***

In the morning they have to sit through more lectures. Today, Kageyama doesn’t care as much that he’s bored as hell. The excitement and anticipation has gone out of the trip for him. Hinata isn’t impressed by Kyoto, doesn’t find the fiery momiji and the beautiful temples inspiring or romantic.

Honestly, if he reflects on it without bias, Kageyama doesn’t either. It’s cool to see sights he’s only seen on TV, places everyone in Japan knows inherently. But he only thinks they’re romantic because that’s what people say about them. Suga-san was right; he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

So when the lecture breaks up and they form their groups again and head out he’s quiet and moody, ignoring Hinata’s energy and Tsukishima’s jibes. 

They head west today, starting with Kinkaku-ji, the temple of the golden pavilion. It’s a bus ride away, the bus packed with old people and tourists. Kageyama stands jammed up against Hinata, who’s looking through yesterday’s photos on his phone. He sniggers and Kageyama looks down. “What?”

“You look like an idiot in this one,” says Hinata, and shows him the picture of the two of them at Heian-jingu, Kageyama looking down longingly at Hinata. “I’m saving it for posterity,” declares the libero with a grin.

Kageyama swallows. 

They reach the temple, accessed by a long gravel road framed with bright momiji trees; Hinata takes some pictures of them. The temple itself is visible almost immediately once they enter the grounds, its golden form rising from the lake it’s built on. The day is calm and clear and it’s reflected perfectly in the pool of water. 

“Wow,” says Hinata, staring. Kageyama stares too. 

“It’s just a replica,” says Tsukishima. “The real one burnt down in the 50s.”

“It’s real gold leaf, though,” says Yamaguchi. 

Hinata presses through the crowds to the edge of the lake and takes some pictures.

  
***

It’s their last afternoon in Kyoto. They take the bus to the eastern district of Arashiyama, where the Togetsukyou wooden bridge is. They eat first, ramen at a small ramen bar that smells strongly of miso, then start looking around.

Arashiyama is more rural than downtown Kyoto, set at the foot of the mountains surrounding the city. It’s known more for its natural location than its buildings. 

They come first to Tenryuy-ji temple with its famous garden and walk around on the paths. The momiji here are a deep crimson, reflected in the garden’s small lake and much admired by the other tourists. Tsukishima makes notes in his book and Yamaguchi reads on his phone while Hinata flits around taking photos of the zen rock garden. Kageyama just walks slowly behind them, hardly registering the beauty. 

Afterwards they go to the bamboo grove, a thin path through a dense bamboo forest. The path is quite short, though, and busy with rickshaws and pedestrians. They loop through it back to the main road and down towards the long wooden Togetsukyou bridge. 

The bridge crosses a wide but shallow river filled with egrets and herons. Cars rumble on the wooden road while pedestrians lean over the edges and take pictures of the red-brown mountains and the wading birds. 

Everywhere they go in Kyoto has been packed with people, Kageyama thinks. There’s no where here to be alone, no quiet, no privacy. The busy traffic trundles by behind them while gaggles of girls pass by taking selfies and foreigners stop people to ask them in halting phrases to take a picture. 

This isn’t how he imagined it would be. This isn’t what it’s like at home in Miyagi, where he never feels crowded. The pictures he’s seen on TV and in books of the places they’ve visited over the past two days were all empty of people, focusing solely on the beauty of the location. But that’s not the reality. 

Kageyama looks at Hinata, now taking a picture of two young blonde American girls as they lean up against the side of the bridge. “Chee-zu,” he says, and they grin and say “Cheese!” He takes the picture and hands back the phone. He’s carefree as always, unaffected by the crowds. 

The girls offer to take a picture of the four of them and Hinata ropes him in, dragging him over to stand between the libero and Yamaguchi, Tsukishima adjusting his glasses languidly on the far side. “Say cheese,” chorus the girls. 

“Chee-zu!” shouts Hinata. Kageyama just frowns at the camera.

  
***

They make their way back into town on the train instead of the bus. It’s late afternoon and the sky is growing dark already, the air getting heavy and cold. It will rain tonight, Kageyama thinks, but not for a while yet.

They have an arranged dinner tonight at six, presumably to stop them from eating nothing but hamburgers for two days straight. They sit with Yachi, who is enthusing over all the things they’ve seen. Her group took a focus on crafts instead of cultural sites and has been visiting textile stores and fan-shops. “I’ve never seen kimono so lovely,” she tells Hinata, “And they let Yuki-chan try one on, it cost 7,000,000 yen!”

“Woah!” Hinata gapes, rice sticking to his lip. Kageyama has eyes only for his face, for his moist lip. His tongue sweeps out and licks it away, wetting his lips. 

He looks away feeling hideously uncomfortable. So full of unquenched want, of a hunger that this meal does absolutely nothing to slake. He stares down unhappily at the fish on his plate and slowly forces some miso soup down. 

This trip is nothing but misery.

  
***

After dinner they go back up to their rooms. Hinata leads the way with Yamaguchi, Tsukishima trailing behind and Kageyama plodding morosely, staring at the carpet. The two of them miss the elevator and stand waiting in the lobby for the next one.

“Are you going to spend the rest of your life making eyes at Hinata, or what?” says Tsukishima. 

Kageyama’s head jerks up. 

“It’s pathetic, Captain.” Like always, Tsukishima says _Captain_ the way he used to say _King_. “Either make a move or move on, but nothing’s going to happen if you don’t do something.”

“Easy for you to say,” mutters Kageyama.

“Yes, it is. Because I didn’t dither for months over it.”

Kageyama’s eyes widen. “You and Yamaguchi –”

“This isn’t about us. It’s about you. And the fact that at this rate the sun will have gone dead before you make a move on Hinata. Grow a pair already. Ask him out. Or at least stop moping like a kicked puppy. It’s pathetic,” he says again. 

“This whole trip has been completely worthless,” says Kageyama in a dead tone.

“You were planning to confess on top of Kiyomizu-dera? Or on Togetsukyou? Are you really that naïve?” 

Kageyama bristles. The elevator comes and they step into it, pushing the button for their floor. 

“No one’s asking you for advice,” grunts Kageyama.

“No one’s asking you to drag yourself around like you’re dying of love sickness, but that’s what’s happening.”

“So what? I should just shove him in a public washroom and ask him if he wants to date me?”

Tsukishima sighs. “I’m not sure if you’re unromantic, or just a sociopath.”

Kageyama’s eyebrows twitch.

“If you want it to be special, you have to make it special for _him_. Think about what he likes, not what the rest of Japan does.”

The doors ding and open on their floor. Hinata’s standing there waiting for them. Kageyama blinks down at him, surprised. 

“Hey, Kageyama!”

“What?”

“You wanna go practice receives in the parking lot?”

Kageyama stares at him. “I don’t have a ball.”

“I brought one, of course! You think I’d come all this way without one?”

Kageyama nods. “Go get it then.” 

Hinata takes off down the hall to fetch it. 

“Don’t blow it,” says Tsukishima, and follows him more slowly.

  
***

Outside the parking lot is quiet. It’s around the corner from the front entrance, out of sight of the bellboy. The air is cold and muggy, clouds overhead preparing for rain.

Kageyama tosses the ball up and spikes it at Hinata, who receives it easily, bumping it back to him. They volley it a few times, then he spikes again. It’s an easy, comfortable rhythm, one they’re both used to. 

“You’ve been real pissy this trip,” says Hinata out of nowhere. “I thought you wanted to come to Kyoto. Which is weird, because usually you hate missing practice.”

Kageyama spikes the ball back with too much spin, and Hinata has to dodge left to pick it up. “I thought… I wanted it to be a good memory,” he says. “But it’s just been disappointing.”

“Well duh, boring old temples and shrines. You really thought it’d be fun? It was better than being in school, but it would have been cool if they’d planned some gym time for us.”

_Think about what he likes, not what the rest of Japan does_ , Tsukishima had said. What Hinata likes, beyond all doubt, is volleyball. 

Kageyama spikes Hinata’s toss back, this time perfectly. “You never think about anything other than volleyball.”

Hinata blinks, bumping the ball up high for another spike. “And you do?”

“I think about volleyball… and you.” He fails to jump for the ball and it hits the ground behind him. It’s like a prompt: now or never. “Hinata… There are only two things that are special to me. And you’re one of them.”

The libero stares at him, eyes wide. 

“I don’t know what to say to you, or how to say it. When we’re on the court, you always understand me. But now…”

Hinata crosses the space between them, his steps quiet on the concrete. His amber eyes are bright, his hair shining like flames, like momiji, under the parking lot lights. 

“You think I don’t understand you now? I’ve known for a long time. But you didn’t say anything, and I thought maybe you just wanted to be friends. Maybe that was enough.”

“God no,” whispers Kageyama. “It’s not enough. It’s so fucking far from enough.”

Hinata steps closer, within the stretch of his arms, and he pulls him in tight to his chest. Buries his nose in Hinata’s lavender and rosemary-scented hair. “Without all of you it will never be enough,” he says.

Hinata laughs softly and looks up, face wreathed in smiles. “I know,” he says, reaching up to take Kageyama’s face in his hands and stare up into it. His expression is amazed, wondering. And then, joyful. “I know.” 

For a minute it’s just the two of them alone in the ancient city, for once no tourists or traffic or selfies to interrupt. Kageyama takes in the weight of Hinata against him, the firmness of his body, the fact that this is real; this is happening. And then: 

“Hey you kids!” shouts the bellboy from the corner of the hotel. “Get out of the parking lot!”

They break apart guiltily, Hinata grabbing the volleyball, and take off. Once they’re out of sight they stop, panting. Hinata giggles first, then Kageyama too, the two of them laughing together. 

“I wanted something special,” gasps out Kageyama. “Something you’d remember.”

“I’ll remember this,” replies Hinata. And he slips his hand into Kageyama’s, fingers squeezing gently.

  
***

That night they stay up late watching volleyball videos after Tsukishima and Yamaguchi have gone to sleep, their hands intertwined on top of the covers. All Kageyama’s anxiety and misery has melted away, leaving behind peace, contentment.

It’s like he has an entirely new perspective on everything. He wonders now how he didn’t see Hinata’s awareness of his feelings when he’s so willing to cuddle up to him, to lie with his head on Kageyama’s shoulder and their knees touching tenderly. Wonders how he took this long to spit out a confession to this boy who he loves so much, and who clearly loves him back. 

This time Hinata doesn’t fall asleep first, stays awake until the clock hits eleven and Kageyama prods him to turn off the video. They crawl into bed together, Kageyama’s heart pounding in his chest, even more aware of the proximity than before. 

Eventually Hinata rolls over and pulls his arms around him, lies snuggled in against Kageyama’s chest until his breathing slows. Kageyama closes his eyes and counts Hinata’s heartbeats until he falls asleep.

They stay like that until morning.

END


End file.
